An Observer's Tale
by Brightspear
Summary: A man is given a second chance at life, yet he finds himself with nothing to help him survive in a deceptively cruel world. What will he do? The DxDverse is one of thousands of tales. Tales recorded in scrolls, tales passed from mouth to mouth, tales which are even now being told. What follows is but one of those tales. (No harem, mature OCs, Underworld-centric, political drama)
1. The Letter, Part 1

_Hello Vivian._

_I guess it's been some time. How are you doing?_

_I'm doing alright for now. It's already been a while since the new year started and yet here I am. To tell you the truth, I don't know how much time has passed since that day. These periods of time have gone by both quickly and slowly, somehow._

_It's really a strange feeling._

_Speaking of feelings, I feel both ashamed and hesitant to be writing after all this time. You must have already noticed from the departure in tone. It probably caught you off guard too._

_I'd like to say that nothing special prompted this letter. I would._

_It's just that...things have happened and I feel like I might not be able to write to you anymore. There was something I really have to tell you about, so the words finally came out._

_That's all there is to it._

_The new place was as crowded and noisy as it's always been. People came and went, and I was still there. I can't say it was easy either, but I pulled along somehow. You must be disappointed by my lack of enthusiasm. I can already image your scolding tone, but I really wish I could be home to see your angry face._

_Much has happened since then, both good and bad._

_As of late, I've had a lot of time to reflect on myself. Last year, when I said my goodbyes I didn't think really much of myself. I felt like my life had no direction or meaning for me to follow. In these long months, I thought a lot about my previous mistakes. They really made me feel lifeless. You know, you used to say how you hated people who lacked passion or a will to live. I now understand what you said, for I feel like there's no person I hate more in the world than myself._

_I failed you Vivian, just how I failed nan. There's no excuses for me. It really tears me apart to know that I couldn't be the strong person I should have been. None of this would have happened otherwise._

_I'm sorry to say that little has changed since then._

_Although in some of these quieter moments, I feel a little like perhaps I was wrong. It really dawned on me that I might not always be there for you when you need me, and the thought terrifies me. I didn't want anything from my life before, but I realise that I couldn't afford myself this selfish indulgence any longer. _

_I must sound a bit loopy. The truth is, circumstances conspired to give me an impossible chance to set things right._

_And yet as of the time that I'm writing this letter, I feel like it's already too late for anything now._

_Yes, I've gotten myself into another big mess._

_Honestly, I have no idea if this letter would ever reach you, or anyone for that matter but if I didn't write a record of all the events to this day I feel like I might be forgotten._

_I know you might be confused and worried at all this vagueness, but please sister, I ask for your patience one last time._

_I'll tell you the story of how it all began that day._

* * *

**A much needed revision. I recommend reading the next chapter as well. All will be revealed in due time, dear readers.**


	2. The Letter, Part 2

_**Disclaimer: **As always, I don't own any of the canon characters._

* * *

_Yes, it all started that day. __A day like any other. _

_The morning started off unexpectedly with__ bright rays of light streaming between my curtains, assaulting my bleary eyes. It had been rather grim those past few days, and so the sudden change in light was something I hadn't anticipated. __The light itself wasn't what woke me, rather the obnoxious alarm I had purposefully chosen. One tap and the room plunged into silence once more._

_With a sound halfway between a sigh and groan, I raised an arm in between my stupor to bring the phone to my face. Sure enough, it was that time again._

_09:15_

_AYAYA-_

_The phone suddenly fell silent as I repeatedly tapped the screen with childish irritation._

_Two minutes passed and all I did was continue to stare at the ceiling, the faint sound of chirruping echoing from outside my window. It was a common occurrence lately.__Often I would find myself wondering if I should move at all, a sentiment I'm sure many hikikomori would understand. It was only the first day of the semester, after all._

_I then remember the thoughtless promises I made to them. And that was enough._

_Forcing myself to move, I stumbled unsteadily out of the bed and moved to draw the curtains back fully and open the window. The sudden gust of crisp January air made me shiver. Rows of apartment windows rose to meet my direct view, though I didn't really care if anyone took a passing glance. A half-naked man was hardly the weirdest thing they'd seen._

_The usual morning rituals took 30 minutes this time, though this was due to the earlier class I had that day. A quick snack, wash and change was all that was needed. The corridor outside my apartment was empty, as it always was when I left for classes in the morning. No sound was to be heard either. It was almost as if I was the only one living in this massive apartment block. But that wasn't the case._

_Every day, I'd hear footsteps echoing outside my door from within. All of them seemed to tell their own story - some were quiet and quick, others were measured and loud. Sometimes a few would march unsteadily in clanking beat which no doubt meant some girls going out, for better or worse. But then they'd always fade, and so I would walk out and no doubt my neighbours would hear my own footsteps in turn. A world within a world._

_I wonder if any of them ever had the same thought. Probably not._

_Once I reached the lift, I gazed through the large window overlooking the main road and tram network leading into the city suburbs before pressing the button. It was where I would always look out every morning before the lift would inevitably arrive. Sometimes, the tracks would be clear, at others I could see the snake-like carriage in the distance. And sure enough, today the tram was already arriving at the station._

_As if any other outcome was assured with my luck._

_At least it wasn't snowing. True, those last few days it had snowed a bit more heavily than this region was used and thus the temperature plummeted. I didn't mind it, but it still was a pain to deal with for the transport services. I guess the sky must have been clear last night for the workmen to clear the tracks. It's amazing to think that the governments still denied the effects of climate change, yet here we were._

_Sure enough, my watch showed quarter to. I'd have roughly 5 minutes to reach the lecture hall if I was quick. The professor never really cared since tardiness wasn't as severe as it would be at school, but for some reason I've always disliked arriving late and looking less than presentable when I was a gasping, sweaty mess. __Rather ironic from the guy who struggles to wake up in the morning, but that's besides the point._

_Driving into the inner city opened up a whole new world. Tens of skyscrapers, convenience chains and long traffic jams filled the view from all sides of the tram windows - a mass of grey concrete and still towering over any and all like a race of oppressive giants. But the city didn't seem like that to me - quite the contrary in fact. Despite the multitude of strange faces, there was an undeniable sense of life beneath the muted picture._

_I guess it makes sense coming from a city rat, wouldn't you agree?_

_Sure enough, the tram was speedy in arriving to the station - praises to European public transport. The world faded into a grey blur as I sped my way across the station and to the nearby humanities building, bumping into the occasional student. In truth, few payed any notice or showed any signs of irritation._

_That's how it was. Some would turn an eye or gaze mutely as I met their path, yet the reactions of everyday people tended to be as mute as that of a deaf gorilla being blasted some rave music. Couldn't really blame them either – there wasn't anything grandiose for them to look at. An average man with the same old black coat, navy trousers, scarf and worn backpack. Just another face in the crowd._

_And yet I couldn't help my eyes from subconsciously focusing on the little details – clothing, book titles, the movement of hands despite their continued ignorance. Thoughts formed in my head, countless backstories blending into one mishmashed picture. Things that nobody would pay a passing thought._

_I paid such gorillas no mind as I made my way to the upper floor of the building, simply levelling an unflinching gaze to the people in front of me to make them move aside. A tactic that's served me well, might I add. Checking my watch, I smiled and took off the earbuds, turning to catch my breath first before walking into a sea of bored faces._

_2 minutes. Thus I made it another day._

* * *

_I suppose I haven't introduced myself after all this time. Though you know me well Vivi, I would do our good family name injustice if I wasn't proper. Or at least... I would if we still had it._

_Even after the shift, I still had the same name as before yet it felt empty. What also didn't change was that I was a student taking courses abroad after my degree. I craved a change after three years of monotonous learning to try and determine a calling that I wouldn't hate for the rest of my life, and so here I was. Another man among thousands._

_It's not the first time I had these introspective musings on my character. That's what these months in isolation will do to you. Yes, I'll get to that in time._

_ My reputation wasn't a bad one by any stretch – I made it my task to present a professional and presentable person to any person I met, from my manner of dress to the way I spoke. Sure, not everyone can claim that confidence comes easily to them, and you know I'm no different. But as granda would say, you just had to fake it till you make it._

_Especially when you were on your own._

_The truth was that I was still the same peculiar person I had always been, with obscure interests and naive dreams. _

_After my class, my peers left on their own separate ways as they always did. I said my goodbyes to one of the few guys in the seminar, and one of my few friends from that class. The fellow was a chap from Korea who enjoyed a good game and was a rather amiable guy to all. That isn't to say I wasn't on good terms with the 30 or so other girls in the class. There just wasn't any interest to establish a greater ground for frequent discussion. Truth be told, my presentation topic might have been the reason for that but damn them all if they found it boring._

_You see, now that I had greater freedom in a foreign institution, I began pursuing more academically "esoteric" subjects. From archaeology to anthropology, anthropology to philosophy, all rather riveting topics to blow off a girl's panties on a date._

_Regardless of the usefulness of my subjects, it made me happy to study about the lives of men greater than me, of times far more heroic than our own. In truth, history always brought me joy out of all things. It reminds me of all the silly things we did in those earlier years._

_I guess...I won't be able to build that tomb for you after all. _

_I walked down to the first floor and navigated the usual series of corridors until I found a small store room next to one of the sociology offices. To both my surprise and relief, there was no one waiting outside the door._

_A laminated sign stared back at me - despite the worn lettering, the words still brought a pang of nostalgia every time._

_Consultation Society/Konsultationsclub/Société de consultation_

_Mo-Fri: 16:30 – 19:30_

_A full semester it's been. A full semester since I registered this club on nothing but a whim really, and I kept asking myself if it really was a good decision after all. The room was a modest one, with only two guest chairs, a desk and a few cabinets that I never even used throughout my stay. I considered some books on the shelfs to make the place look more professional, but then either my laziness or some logical reasoning prevented that particular project from occurring. At the very least, I kept the place as dust-free as I could._

_Hanging my coat and scarf on the makeshift rack, I placed my backpack next to the worn desk and took out my file of notes on the club before finally settling on the swivel chair._

_It was the first day of the semester. I doubt either Dorothee, John, or Markus would be coming today. Perhaps I should have called them first._

_Did the club really make a difference? I told myself that the reason I founded it was so that I could do what I did best – listening to the problems of others and giving my honest advice. It must sound cliché or naïve if you looked at it, but deep down I've always felt the need to help people in some way. Or perhaps "fix" would be the better word. Some days I wondered if that truly was a wish born from my own good will, or some deeper mental affliction that I must be suffering from. Nevertheless, I was no counsellor by any stretch of the definition and I never seriously studied psychology or psychiatry to give empirically supported verdicts. _

_Updates on my current regulars would be soon in coming. Dorothee would have confronted her boyfriend with his suspected cheating, which I can only hope she would listen to the steps I gave her. Markus should have new drafts ready of his thesis…hopefully. And Nat…_

_There was Nat._

_The man at the centre of it all._

_Nathaniel Dietrich von Meyer, as he then called himself remained the most worrying case. His predicament has plagued my mind since December last year, and not least since it eerily echoed my own._

_You might be wondering what sort of a man he was. Well, I can tell you that he didn't belong in this club of sorry miscreants...at least at first glance. The lad, seemingly younger than me was a legal student and had his work cut out for him. His looks certainly didn't earn him any less popularity, but the passing glances in his direction were wasted on him. The first time I saw him, he still sported the same distant look, one that told me nothing in the vicinity was above his own concerns. I just couldn't put my finger as to what they were._

_So why had he sought me out in the end?_

_Rather, that tiny voice at the back of my mind would whisper that he was only here to ridicule me when I was a fake posing as a man with real experience. But as time went on, I saw more and more signs to the contrary. Of all my consultees, he was the one to make me take this job seriously. More than 30 visits over the semester, hundreds of scenarios discussed and after multiple consultations I still reached the same conclusion. That man legitimately seemed to seek distraction from some really worrying circumstances._

_"May I enter?" spoke an eloquent voice._

_Well, speak of the Devil and there he was. My memory of that day is sketchy so I can't recall how long he stood there while I was reminiscing, but it must have been a good bit._

_Nat hadn't changed at all since I last saw him. He still wore the same thick jacket and woollen scarf that he touted even at the start of the first semester. The grey thing made him look twice as big, but he was still unmistakably a few inches over my own height. A head of sandy-blonde hair, short and tidily cut stood in contrast to my own messier, slightly darker hair. Looking back on it, Dorothee wasn't wrong in calling him the better looking 'twin'. What was undeniably true, was the quality of the clothes he always wore, even if they seemed a few years behind fashion._

_The eyes were different though - in contrast to our pale green, his were a cloudy grey mix with otherworldly clarity. Perhaps that's what scared his admirers away. What wasn't different was the same tired look and strained expression that I seemed to wear more of late._

_Nat did well to hide it with a curt smile, but I could still see the crinkles round his mouth._

_"Of course Nat. You're early as well." I smiled._

_My tone always changed when Nat was around. While I was unsure of his background, his speech had this eloquent tone that made you think he'd been born in the old families. I couldn't help but be more mindful. In fact, it reminded me of you Vivi - you always used to be the more cultured of the two of us. _

_"Well, how was it so far?"_

_He shook his head slowly "No different than the last. The classes were a chore and the suitors as persistent as ever."_

_"I'd have thought so. Though your colleagues surely wouldn't mind the extra attention, now would they?" I added with a jovial tone._

_The question was met with a light chortle as he took off his coat and scarf before placing them on the rack. A smile here, a joke there yet the sentiment felt empty. His movements were leisurely enough but there was a certain tension about him as he moved to the empty chair. For one, he was avoiding my gaze._

_It seemed things had not progressed as smoothly as I'd have thought._

_I still humoured him for a while with more of the same light discussion that we always had. Nat told me his impressions about the new souls game I recommended him, but he didn't have that much time over the break to really finish it. In hindsight, he had quite a few more tests coming than I did. Unlike me, he was a full student here._

_As much as I tried, he still didn't seem to relax, and it only furthered my dismay. Several implications arose in my mind, and I just began to formulate a point of approach._

_"So, uh..."_

_"How was your stay back home?"_

_I distinctly remember wincing in that moment. _

_All thoughts stopped as the words registered mutely. The not so subtle diversion was not lost on me, yet the bastard chose the most effective question to throw me off._

_"It went well. I had dinner with the grans. Met a few friends then just spent the rest of my time saving to roll for the New Years gacha. The usual business."_

_Nat paused for a moment "And your sister?"_

_"…She's doing alright."_

_I felt a pang of guilt lying to him like that, but at that moment I couldn't bear myself to talk about your recent state. Not so soon. Nat seemed like he had his own plate full – I had no right to make it any worse for the lad._

_Trust me when I say that I trusted no one with the information of your accident. It was one day when we were having an psychoanalysis session that Nat made the connection that I had a sibling in ill health. In fact, so did he though he would not speak of it. I still feel guilty, but the only reason I decided to tell him was that he insisted that he'd lend me some money for your treatment. Believe me, I tried as much as I could to refuse him._

_"Oh. Is that so? I know the grant wasn't much, but Tar-"_

_My frown changed to a straight line as I struggled to move past that memory._

_"Nat, remember what that video on hands held behind one's back? Isn't there something you wish to tell me?" I cut in._

_He smiled sheepishly and for the first time during this session he slumped in his seat with a dejected look._

_"It was foolish of me to hope it would escape your notice, eh."_

_"Yes, I called it the Consultation club for a reason. We would have dealt wit sooner had you brought it up from the beginning, you moron. Now out with it" I snapped._

_Nat didn't react at the jab, only turning to look morosely at the empty shelves. The pause only proved to further the awkwardness._

_It wasn't the first careless thing I said._

_"Okay, that might have been a bit too brusque. You know, I can- "_

_"No, you're right. I came today to see to this matter through. In fact, I was struggling to wake in the morning."_

_That was quaint. "You and me both."_

_Nat stooped into the chair and tapped his chin in contemplation. His expression was frozen into a mask which made it hard to guess what he might say._

_"Do you...ever feel like the whole world turns against you? That no matter where you look, there are only false smiles and leering faces?" he began._

_I paused for a moment to think the question over as well as any possible context behind it._

_"Hmm. I can't say those are issues I deal with often. It's easy to lash out or cower in fear, but both will lead to the same outcome." _

_"So what am I lacking?"_

_My mouth twisted in thought "Making foes requires one to express an outward opinion to many people and sticking to it without fear. It becomes easy to amass enemies if money or status doesn't make you bend. Respecting their viewpoints and rejecting them comes with it naturally. That is the hallmark of a strong will."_

_"So that's how you see it. Would you call me a weak-willed person?"_

_The question seemed sincere in its intention. I wish I could have given him a more modest answer, but the truth was that I just didn't know Nat that well._

_Whichever way you looked at him, Nathaniel Meyer was a paradox. Despite looking so young, the boy seemed like he carried a greater burden than most middle-aged men struggling to keep their families through debt. He showed every facet of wealth and influence, yet he seemed disinterested in using it to his advantage, going so far as to skip on dinners and events entirely. I always had suspected that he was from a higher family, as the name implied so the aloofness might explain his inability to integrate himself. And yet, he acted with the effortless dignity that might not be expected from one of his bearing, even to those from the lowest of backgrounds._

_"I...No, I would not."_

_It was only for a moment, but I thought I glimpsed a flash of hardness registering across his eyes with those last words. He took a long time to think over the words, and I got the impression that he was debating sharing any more information._

_"It is their hatred that causes my family great pain and leaves me only a trail of ashes behind. Any effort I make only ends in vain." he said, his tone dropping to a morose whisper._

_Silence fell across the room as I pondered the import of his words. That wasn't what I was hoping to hear. For a few moments, I didn't really have anything to respond to such news._

_"Even in the worst of times, even when all hands are against you, the way forward is clear. You only have to see it." _

_I placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder._

_"Perhaps there's more merit in sharing your situation than you might think, you dimwit. Stubbornness will not help you"_

_Nat raised his head to look at me with an unreadable expression as if searching for something in my eyes. The scrutiny was so intense that I cowed away from his look. However, in an unexpected turn he nodded slowly._

_"Perhaps. Perhaps there is, though that's a story for next time."_

_My frown deepened, and I turned to look at my watch. 2 hours had already passed. I looked out the door and noticed the twilight sky slowly fading to the light blue of nightfall._

_"Wait, I can still stay behind for a few more minutes!"_

_Unfortunately, my insistence didn't sway him and he turned to grab his things._

_Another minute of silence passed "And that conversation you said you'd have with your father?"_

_Nat only paused for a moment, then got up from his chair and walked to the door._

_"It...It seems like I had to consider my responsibilities lately. I'm sorry, but you wouldn't understand the circumstances involved. That is all I can tell you."_

_So that's how it was._

_I looked at the floor, a growing feeling of sadness developing in my gut. I remember thinking in that moment that perhaps I had finally come close to cracking that mask of his to see what truly was troubling him, and yet again I failed disastrously._

_How do you even cure an illness if you don't know its cause?_

_"Look, this isn't the end. I said I'd get at the bottom of this, and I will."_

_The explanation seemed so close, like I could almost grasp it with the tips of my fingers. Either his family was dealing with debt, or his parents were negligent. Maybe the fault lay with someone else entirely. Whatever it was, it seemed like Nat felt himself to be the root of the problem. And I was powerless to help him._

_"I think I'll stop coming to the club."_

_The curt way he uttered that statement suddenly turned my throat dry._

_"There are still other methods we have tried yet. It's too soon to-"_

_He raised a hand "I think I've troubled my family more than enough. It's time I took matters into my own hands."_

_"What?! But the debt I owe you? You just promised you'd explain things to me too!"_

_His back showed no response, but he made no move to leave either._

_"You realise you can't fix this by walking away. You only delay the problem and the same grievances with your family will eventually destroy you."_

_Another pause._

_"You can't- "_

_"You are right. I will put an end to this."_

_I don't know why, but I felt shivers down my spine from that statement. After everything that we've done, it came to this._

_"Why are you being so rash all of a sudden? Look, I can understand that they mean everything to you, but you are not a cog in a machine, you're your own person. With your success and abilities, you can get anywhere in the world! Make a decision on your own terms."_

_He didn't reply for some time, only pausing to take a deep breath._

_"There's more to this that you can understand Taran."_

_"So tell me! Why can you never speak your goddamned mind?" I barked, getting up hurriedly._

_He flinched as if struck._

_"What happened to you? Last time we parted you said that nothing would discourage you from your path. And now you're just backing away- "_

_I stopped as he turned around and looked me in the eye with a sorrowful gaze._

_"Did you not say the same when you visited Vivian at the hospital three months back? All this time, yet you remain the same. I too see things for what they are. She only gets worse and so do you, Taran. You are not the same man that started the semester."_

_"This isn't- "_

_"You and I are the exact same."_

_I sneered "How could you know what I feel."_

_"What's the most important thing to you?"_

_I froze in shock as he repeated the exact words on my tongue._

_"I…I would save my sister above all."_

_His expression turned to a knowing smile "Exactly. Which is why I said that we aren't so different. As much as we wish to help our loved ones, as much as our spirit may be willing to go beyond limitations, our minds and bodies must meet reality in the end. I can only hope you come to realise this as well."_

_This wasn't it. It shouldn't have been this heart-rending. Nat was only one man to walk through the door, yet the times I spent with him, the efforts we went through – I thought I would finally make a meaningful difference in someone's life. And what more, he was my only true friend in this place. It wasn't supposed to end this way._

_"I shall be leaving soon. There are some people I need to contact and then I'll be on my way. I've learned a lot from you, and for that you have my thanks."_

_The unwarranted praise. It hurt to hear it. It really did._

_"Nat, you can't be going for good, right?"_

_I was met with no answer. Instead, Nat gently grasped my hand and opened my hand to place…a single thin green leaf on my palm. The shape reminded me a lot of the types of leaves one might see on an olive tree. I could only stare at it dumbly._

_"Farewell Taran. Never give up on sticking to your dream. Don't...be like me."_

_He sighed._

_"I will forever cherish our talks, both the good and bad. And remember – don't be afraid to cross your own Rubicon when you come to it."_

_I stood staring at the empty doorway like an idiot , the steady hum of the corridor outside fading to a whisper as the situation finally sank in._

_He left without hesitation. I..I failed him. I failed him just like I failed you. _

_Gritting my teeth, I snagged my coat and ran outside the door towards the entrance. The crowd was picking up after the noon classes, and a few people yelled at me as I barrelled through them. At that moment, I simply didn't care._

_I stepped through the double doors into the blinding sunlight and stared frantically among the masses to find his face. The yells didn't help either. Eventually, my arms fell as I stood at the top of the steps mutely, ignoring the questioning glances thrown my way. I took out my phone and called his number, yet every time the service was unavailable. No ring came from the distance either._

_Nat was well and truly gone, leaving more questions for my soul than I cared to hold._

_The nearby students flinched as I slammed my fist into the metal railing, but none dared to come any closer. I sat down on the steps with my head buried in my hands, oblivious to the offers of aid thrown my way. I truly must have looked pathetic trying desperately to stem the flow of tears. My face felt hot and I couldn't hold down the heavy feeling in my chest._

_Everything was coming back. All the lies and the trauma of 11 years was coming back like a flood and I stood there powerless against it. The divorce, the streets, the foster homes, the fights, your sickness. Everything. And Nat…Nat was never the final nail on the coffin. He was just the newest reminder of my mistakes, and every mistake yet to come._

_Numerous people looked at me with worried faces, yet I never felt more alone in that moment._

_The sheer bitterness almost forced another strike on the banister, but as I clenched my fist I felt a subtle roughness enveloped in my hand and suddenly my vision cleared. I opened my hand and stared at the scrunched leaf. It felt warm._

_Don't be afraid to cross your own Rubicon when you come to it._

_A single tear fell, my body being racked with shivers as I looked back on the memories. But the strangest thing was that this one was not of sorrow, but the first vestiges of relief that I've felt in what felt like forever._

_In the end, someone did see me for who I am and what I could be._

_So it was me who should be thanking him all along._

_That breath felt like an eternity as I finally collected myself and stared in the distance with a feeling of uneasy conviction. I felt weak and vulnerable looking pathetic in the eyes of every person that I met. But it was a start._

_Nat was right. This was but a hurdle that I shouldn't be afraid to cross. For your sake, and for my own._

* * *

_After all that debacle, I left the office with a more sombre disposition than usual and turned back to the second exit leading to the tram platform. I got quite a few worried glances this time, but I met them with an easy gaze. It seemed like I had much to think about in the coming days, now that the semester was ending and the new one loomed near._

_The air grew colder now that I was nearing the raised platform. Even stranger, the more I strayed towards the waiting box on the side of the platform, the more my breath frosted in the winter air until I finally came to a secluded stop._

_I replayed the conversation in my mind, and ever other discussion since. Granda would have said that this was yet another lesson, another chance to improve one's self and move closer to the correct path. I also realised that Nat was referring to my direct wishes when he asked what was most important to me. Did he have an idea as to how I could help cure your condition?_

_Well...there are a few that come to mind now. But it's too late now_

_After a few minutes, the faraway chime sounded as the tram headed to the city centre arrived into the station with a smooth halt. I noticed passingly that it was one of the newer models that came into use since last year, the carriages having a rather distinct sheen to them. In fact, my eyes felt somewhat strained just by looking at it, no doubt from the light bouncing off the polished surface. I turned right towards the closest exit and froze instantly as my gaze fell upon the far-off silhouette standing in front of the doors with valise in hand_

_It couldn't be. Hell, my mind didn't even register a response before my body broke into a run towards the other end of the platform. I cursed in my mind as my brain considered whether this was a good idea after parting so definitely, yet my body seemed to move all on its own. I shouted Nat's name, my face breaking into a grin as I saw a shocked expression. He began saying something, but that was suddenly cut off as someone knocked into me from my immediate left._

_I was going so fast that my mind didn't even recognise the impact until I tripped heavily to the right, my vision suddenly flying as my body lost its sense of balance. The next moment I was looking around groggily from my twisted position on the ground. My ears were ringing, and the back of my head felt very cold, almost as if I was leaning on a cube of ice. It took me a few seconds to come to my senses, and eventually I leaned up and looked up to the platform to see Nat standing a little further to the right frozen in shock. A number of people stood beside him, yet the showed puzzled reactions at my mishap._

_Why did he look so shocked, I thought._

_It hit me in that exact moment that I was standing on the exact spot where the front of the tram carriageway was._

_Or where it should have been._

_Sharp sound suddenly blared into my ears, the noise forcing me turn to the right slowly. In that instant, I fell paralysed as the white front of the tram appeared right in my face. My surroundings bled away, and time stopped in that instant as all feeling and thought escaped my body. The only thing that remained in my mind was the wall of white right in front of me._

_It lasted for an infinite amount of eternities and then it just stopped._

_I remember blacking out and then waking up with lights floating in my eyes._

_My train of thought was interrupted by the sudden tightness that developed in my throat. I spluttered reflexively, feeling warm fluid dripping down my face and chin. Slowly, my eyes opened to the sight of the orange sky above, patches of cloud dotting the plane like paint on a canvas._

_The sky really was beautiful that day._

_I felt nothing and heard nothing, yet my mind was still trying hard to regain consciousness. Bright lights filled the edge of my vision, but I couldn't muster the strength to even turn my head. My whole body felt like a stone, with only a void filling my left side. My head...well, I couldn't even describe the strange sensation._

_I tried to chuckle, but it came out as another weak splutter as my vision turned to black._

_My last action in that world was to release the most painful rasp I've ever let out in my life._

_Yes, you read it right. That world. Because what followed after is how I got into this mess._

* * *

**_A few changes that were necessary._**

_**Stay tuned for the next chapter.**_


	3. The Letter, Part 3

_Sé mo laoch mo Ghile Mear_

_'Sé mo Shaesar, Ghile Mear,_

_Suan ná séan ní bhfuaireas féin_

_Ó chuaigh i gcéin mo Ghile Mear._

* * *

_I woke up to those haunting words echoing at the back of my mind, the memory surfacing slowly like stones swept up at the shore. After a few heartbeats, my vision cleared and with it came awareness. The same words you used to sing to me all those years ago, yet I don't know the reason why I heard them again. All I recall from that time was the gap in my memory, as if a period from my life simply disappeared entirely. What more, I didn't even know that I had a splitting headache at that moment, until a sharp pang pulsed inside my head. The void seemed to only enforce it._

_I woke up to a grey space this second time, a mess of things surrounding me on all sides. Turning my head around, I noticed that the sky was overcast outside, causing the bale light to cast shadows like hills around the small apartment. _

_I woke up to a room almost unfamiliar to me. The tight space looked decrepit, posters on all sides marked with singers that brought forth a small pang of memory once I focused on them hard enough, yet it was almost as if the knowledge was purposefully obscured. The new pictures weren't the only details that left the same nagging feeling; from the stationary on the desk to the clothes strewn on the back of the chair, it all felt so familiar yet so unknown at the same time._

_Taking a forced effort, I pushed myself to my feet and walked to the fridge door, my head growing increasingly more fevered by the second. My hand opened the door with practiced ease, anticipating the sudden jolt that came with the more rigid lower hinge. I had moved to grab the usual carton of juice, when my hand brushed thin air. Sharp pains seized my head again out of a sudden, and I couldn't help but press my temple trying to rub off the pain. _

_Something about that empty shelf bothered me. My brain heaved, yet despite my increasing efforts to calm both my nerves and my head, the pain only grew sharper by the second. I don't recall every feeling such a strong pain. It was strange too, for it didn't feel like some internalised malady or wound but something which seemed to tear at my very consciousness and mind._

_Sweat poured freely down my brow and I still remember as clear as day the moment it struck me; _

_I couldn't remember my own name, much less what happen before. My creep towards the bathroom soon became a crawl. The cold water from the faucet turned to be a temporary relief, but it did little to ease my growing sense of doubt. I looked up to condensation on the mirror, seeing a blurry outline of my own face staring back at me as if through smoke. Many questions swirled in my mind but no answer, no matter how hard I tried to focus, would come._

_I could wait no longer and wiped the surface with one quick motion._

_That's when it began._

_Pangs of red pulsed in my vision as I stared at my own face with wide eyes. I clutched my eyes tightly as my head throbbed and broken fragments flooded my mind. The white tiles reflected in the mirror soon warped to a new shape, with clear headlights and a metal grille, sound muting until I could only hear distant cries. The face though, it was the same and at the same time it wasn't. The same eyes and facial structure, but at the same time it somehow wasn't. The face reflected in the mirror indicated a man well into his adulthood. It was me, yet it wasn't._

_It was so alike, yet so different that my own sanity struggled to accept it._

_As the mind became a battleground for discordant memories to clash hazardously, the body began to tremble with unprecedented intensity. All of a sudden, I felt a sudden rush of warmth with as the events of that day resurfaced like a fresh plate appearing at the table. With that rising feeling, blood shot out of my nose and mouth like a jet and through my fingers, the droplets speckling the white sink before I realised what was happening. _

_With one hand, I attempted to grab the edge of the bowl while clutching at the tightness in my chest with the other, yet I could only cry as all strength left my arm. The violent movement sent a jarring pain through my side as I fell in a heap on the bathroom floor. My vision was red, my eyes feeling sticky as I blinked multiple times._

_To tell you the truth Vivian, that moment scared me more than the accident, more than the torture and more than the crippling isolation thereafter. I remember in that moment how I stood there helpless, already struggling so hard to maintain my breathing, and I couldn't understand why. It just wouldn't add up. I was dead, then I wasn't and now I was dying again. I remembered your face in those last moments and that of Nat, who was not Nat. _

_I really thought that was the end there, bleeding on the bathroom floor with no clear knowledge of even my own identity and no way to say goodbye._

_Queerly enough, it felt like I'd already grown used to it._

* * *

_Your next line is "I bet he'll say he woke up in some other strange place next, somehow still alive."_

_And you would be right. That was exactly what happened the moment I came to._

_I now realise that with every iteration of this repeating nightmare, the room became darker and my surroundings even more warped. It was dimly lit; aside from the flickering of the candle, there was no other illumination. No light shone through the closed windows and no sound escaped either; there was only the pitter-patter of rain on the glass. It was as though the whole place had been enveloped in darkness._

_Despite the weakness in my chest, I tried to turn in the bed to look outside the window. That's when an unknown hand gripped my shoulder. A new voice called out, no, whispered beside me. I was about to search the room, but that turned out to be unnecessary. The source of the voice was crouching beside the chair, looking up at me with grey eyes dimly illuminated in the candlelight._

_I was perplexed. This young woman, who looked like a maid, said something I couldn't understand. She seemed to have something on her mind, but I had no memory of her._

_The woman appeared to be concerned, either because I had awoken or for some other reason, but she seemed to lack the energy typical of her age. Or perhaps "life" was a more appropriate word than "energy." But the gloom extended beyond the maid — it seemed to encompass the entire room._

_With my vision restored, I could see the room more clearly. The plaster walls illuminated by the candles, the rose engravings and the tapestries lining the walls felt alien, yet also vaguely familiar._

_But a crushing sense of claustrophobia overpowered that familiarity. It almost seemed as though the house wasn't interested in accepting me._

_The girl seemed to pose a question, yet I could only stare at her dumbfoundedly. Her face was pale, framed between tidy locks of fair hair and narrow ears beneath her headdress. It was almost as though she..._

_A faint chill ran down my spine._

_The freshly awakened gears in my head began to turn as I mulled things over. This woman, who wore some very authentic dress for someone of her apparent station, seemed to act flawlessly. She acted in a very deferential manner, which struck me as odd given that I never laid eyes on her before. I looked around the room, but there was no mirror to see my reflection._

_The maid moved to pour a small amount of liquid in a cup and offered it without saying a word. Unable to decide, I reflexively nodded._

_I fell asleep after taking what must have been medicine. The next moment I came to, the maid was not present in the room anymore, though a tray with the same vial and cup remained on the nightstand. The sky outside was still dark which made me wonder whether an hour passed since or a day._

_What I did know was that I was strong enough to stand on my own feet. It was already starting to become stuffy in the room, despite its size which was larger than any bedroom I've ever occupied. To add, I had a growing number of questions. Questions that would not be answered if I sat here doing nothing. And so, with a soft click of the lock, I made my first step into the house._

_The air within what could only be a country home or a manor was oppressive, as though a black miasma hovered within. The house was bleak and barren — hardly a trace of colour to be found._

_I came across an open window. Beyond it lay nothing but darkness — neither sunlight nor moonlight could be seen. There were no chirping birds, no rustling grass, no signs of life at all. Everything that would normally give colour to the world had vanished entirely. Not even the faint light of the moon through clouds shone through. The only company I had was the mist produced by my own breath._

_With a startle, I hugged my shoulders as the cold made the hairs on my limbs rise._

_There was no one around down the long corridor, nor any source of light. Groping through the darkness, I stumbled into what felt like a large room. At this point, my eyes were slowly adjusting to the darkness until I picked up a few details. At one end of this grand hall there was a door, which was sealed shut with a heavy bar. I pressed against the bar, but it remained firmly in place. The door did not budge either. It seemed I could not leave the mansion._

_Despite my adapting eyesight, I chose to go back to retrieve the candle and made a makeshift holder from the cup left at my bedside. Once I returned to the large hall, I got my first clear look at the furnishings of the house, and some of the clues I needed._

_The more I paid attention to this colonnaded space, the busts with the neutral expressions and the paintings decorated with great figures, the more the grandeur of the house seemed lost to the ages. I then realised that this was a house like those I saw in documentaries or from photographs in books. It was the house of any respectable peer, and the quality and intricacy of the decoration only reinforced my deduction. Yet to say that it was grand would be a lie._

_It was in perpetual decline. Not a flower grew in the assorted vases; dust and dirt blackened the plaster; cobwebs blanketed the corridors; ivy shrouded the cracks in the walls. It was not a pleasant sight. _

_Just why was the house in such disrepair? That maid was here for sure, yet I saw no other signs of life. Did this place even have inhabitants? Perhaps this family had no heirs, so their bloodline simply vanished into the depths of history._

_Question after question._

_Pushing those doubts aside, I looked for another way out and found a smaller set of doors leading to another corridor leading to yet more rooms. Many were all firmly shut, even after one attempted shove which only resulted in a bruised shoulder. Eventually after some stumbling, I came across one room which didn't seem locked. With a push, I stepped in quietly and gagged on the dusty air rushing out. _

_The candle cast long shadows on what seemed like library, if the shelves arranged in orderly fashion along its length were any indication. Several queer-looking objects littered the tables arranged at the centre of the room. I spotted assorted atlases of unknown lands, strange dials and something like a kopis sword, yet when I tried to draw it from its sheath it wouldn't budge. Perhaps it was rusted shut. _

_After a while, my attention drifted to the thick volumes on the shelves and the strange sort of glyphs decorating their spines. Like I suspected from the girl's words, it was not any alphabet I could identify._

_I approached a shelf to examine one of the books - and suddenly, an avalanche of them came falling to the floor. To say that I was scared shitless would be an understatement._

_I stared blankly at the mountain of books. They had fallen down on their own, but they showed no signs of putting themselves away. Since no one else was there to do it, I began placing the books back on the shelf. Even so, I took the risk of looking through the contents but instead of finding an answer to my questions, only more of that unreadable language and inexplicable illustrations met my sight. The dust flaking out of the pages didn't help my efforts either._

_One, two, three, a dozen... As soon as I had gotten them all back up, they came crashing back down again. At this rate I began thinking that this should be a job for the maid, but she was still absent. Pretending I had not seen anything, I made my way back into the hallway when a sudden voice almost stopped my heart. _

_"What's the matter? You lost, or are you just tryin to take in the sights?"_

_I nearly dropped the candle too. It was not the maid's voice. Caught off-guard, I spun around, confused, in search of the source. _

_"Where you looking? I'm over here. Yeah, there you go. Little more to the left."_

_Following the voice's instructions, I found myself facing a wall._

_"You look like you've seen a ghost or something. Hey wait, don't turn away!"_

_The voice seemed to be coming from one of the paintings on the wall._

_"Yep, you got it. I'm the one talkin' to you."_

_Judging by the size, it must have been a magnificent landscape painting. But under the dim light, the canvas was a deep shade of black, as if it had been dipped into a vat of ink._

_"Been so long since I've had a conversation, I was afraid I might've forgotten how to talk. So tell me, who might you be?"_

_For starters, I was at loss of words how a painting was talking to me. I couldn't help but place a ginger hand on the surface but the wall behind it was fully solid._

_"Oi, you're a strange one for sure."_

_The painting sounded rather high-spirited. Perhaps it was simply excited to have the opportunity to speak with someone. It didn't seem like it meant me any harm, so I decoded to risk a question._

_"Who…who are you?"_

_The painting chuckled in response._

_"Me? I'm... well, as you can see, I'm a painting."_

_"A..talking painting."_

_"Yes, outstanding observational skills you have. Why did I end up as a painting? Hmm, hard to say. But what about you stranger, who are you?"_

_The question made me pause._

_"I don't know really. Do you?"_

_"Just 'cause you don't know who you are doesn't mean you can go around askin' other people!"_

_The painting's tone remained joking, but I sensed a tinge of curiosity in his response._

_I frowned "You're not a person though."_

_"I'm not a person, you say? Well, no, you're right, but... I'm not gonna know anything about you that you can't tell me yourself. I mean, from where I'm standin', you look almost like a walking cloud of shadow. I can't even tell you what you look like."_

_"Wait, how come I can understand you but not that maid?" I shot._

_"That maid? Which one?"_

_"The one with the braid and grey eyes-"_

_"Haven' the foggiest who you're talkin about." _

_"Where am I then?"_

_The painting dared to laugh "In the library, silly."_

_Before long, I was starting to expect more sarcastic quips from the painting and decided to go back._

_"Cmon, it's a joke, a joke! Sweet Homonoia, you're no fun."_

_The painting was silent for a moment before resuming in its jovial manner._

_"Come to think of it, you do look out of place here. You don't look like a kinsman to me, but I can't tell who you are either with that weak thing you call an aura."_

_Somehow, I could understand what the painting meant, yet some things didn't add up._

_"About that, the writing on the shelves…what language is it?"_

_"Are you blind or…wait, unless…"_

_I continued to stare at the black surface under the flickering light as the painting seemed to be thinking about its response._

_"You're lookin' at Regumuq letters stranger, the language born from the tongues of the old human domains. So you can't read them, eh?"_

_No, I couldn't. That said, the letters seemed altogether familiar – some even came close to Phoenician script. His answer already made my mind race with possibilities._

_"You say human as if you are…were not one yourself?" I replied._

_The painting paused for much longer this time. With each second that passed, the more I began preparing for the inevitable possibility._

_"No, I wasn't." it said, almost whispering._

_I waited for it to continue, but the awkward silence remained._

_"Actually, since y'er here, mind plunging your hand into me?"_

_"Ye-wait. What?"_

_"Ah, you know I've probably had it in me for years since she threw it in here, but the energy signature just won't give me any rest, ya know?"_

_"I…see."_

_I was certainly feeling a lot of trepidation then – moreover I was still coming to terms with the fact that a talking painting was telling me to put my hand through a solid canvas. That maid probably slipped something in the vial and I was hallucinating. But I guess I'll never know now._

_It occurred to me that whoever could possibly be hiding behind it wanted to sate their boredom by making me hit my hand against the wall._

_"You strike me as the adventurous sort. If you're gonna go exploring, I've got the perfect thing, so do it."_

_Now that raised my curiosity. The painting was still wrapped in an impenetrable darkness. A perfect, all-consuming void. And the voice had told me to put my hand into it._

_Uttering a curse, I extended my hand towards the painting. The moment my fingertips brushed against the darkness, it swallowed my entire hand up to the wrist._

_"Ahahaha! No, no, not there! That tickles! A little to the right!"_

_As the voice in the painting had instructed, I groped around the inside of the darkness. Before long, I felt something hard at my fingertips. Clenching the object, I withdrew my hand. Luckily, my arm was still intact._

_I spread my fingers, and there I found a key._

_"Ahh, that tickled. I've no clue what it opens though. A while back, she tossed it into me. That damned litterbug. So yeah, it ain't mine. Don't worry about giving it back. However…hmm. I bet there's something worth seeing in there, if she felt the need to toss that key." it mused._

_"I guess…thank you."_

_"All right, well, I'm gonna get some sleep. You take care, little stranger. Hope that you find your way. I know the house looks shabby, but it wasn' always like that. Or maybe I'm some fool. Well whatever. If you happen to learn my name, come pay me another visit...should the fancy strike you."_

_Having said that, the painting fell quiet._

_I called back saying that I needed the odd thing, my mind still racing with many unanswered questions but in an effect that made me doubt my own eyesight, the darkness bled away to reveal a worn landscape painting._

_In my hand lay a small key. It seemed rather antiquated... and again, the design was vaguely familiar. Silence once again drew over the corridor. I stood there all alone, and still no sign of the maid._

_I almost made another step when my gut rose to my chest as I instantly sensed a massive presence behind me that wasn't there one instant before. A cry hadn't even begun to manifest in my throat when a heavy impact met the back of my neck and the world plunged to utter darkness._

* * *

_It was after a while that I began wondering how I came to appear in these strange situations. As time passed, I began to miss the painting; it was my only source of positive conversation for a very long time. Instead, I was left with my thoughts._

_The painting's words made it clear that the events which lead to me the present were not of the natural sort and I had in fact woken up in a different world. Furthermore, after all that's happened, I've come to realise that it was one I knew, though never in my dreams did I imagine the setting of one so generic and happy-go-lucky a series to be this dismally miserable. _

_All precedent indicated I was meant to be an overpowered self-insert in a harmless word so long as I was the good guy. Needless to say, I learned very fast that it wasn't to be._

_Perhaps this was the price I had to pay for cheating death twice. Did I follow Soulsborne rules now, forever doomed to lose a piece of myself each time I came back? To tell you the truth, I was couldn't summon the courage to find out. _

_What was clear was that I did not come into this new world not by the grace of any benevolent god. No gods or great oracles spoke to me during my dark spells, not even so much as giving me an explanation for what happened, nor any tool to get me out of here. How did I get here? It was a question I have been asking myself since the beginning._

_Unlike the light novels or numerous fanfictions I read in my past, I seemed to posses no great power of my own. I attempted using the power of my imagination, yet to no avail. No hidden lineage, no divine artefact, no mixed blood. I wasn't even myself anymore – this world's version of me was older by a good few years with his own memories – these gaps in my recollection occasionally came back to nag me and it soon felt like two people were sharing the same body. _

_What could a mundane human past the prime of his life do? And that is how I found myself here._

_My next awakening was more violent than the last, my consciousness jarring open at the sudden influx of cold water slapped in my face. As my vision clarified, I stared at yet another dark room, but this time the illumination came from a single window high above me. Soon a sharp pain in my back alerted me of my awkward position on the stone floor, causing me to clumsily right myself up. I soon discovered that my hands were secured behind me using manacles. _

_The face that greeted me was not the maid's. This time, it was a man, old and worn, but with a frame that very much spoke of a lifetime of gruelling work. His short-cropped beard framed a square face and a pair of impassive light grey eyes amidst greying strands._

_I took a mute glance at his clothes, noting the old-fashioned design to them. Everything from the dagger at his hip, to the signet ring on his left hand to the linen neck cloth spoke of a man from an unfamiliar time. His gaze however, was telling enough._

_"Who sent you?" the stranger asked._

_Despite the unusual accent, he delivered the words in a clear, concise manner. The problem was that I couldn't for the life of me understand what he meant._

_"Who sent you?" he repeated._

_"Hell if I know." I croaked "I simply woke up in this house. Who ar-"_

_My question was stopped abruptly as a solid fist impacted with my jaw before I even realised the arm in motion. The resounding crack echoed throughout the chamber._

_"How did you acquire the contract?" the man asked, showing no change of tone._

_"Wut hontr-"_

_A second crack, much louder than the first sounded as his foot stamped squarely on the bones of my lower leg, breaking both in an instant. There was an almost comical pause before my mind caught up on what was happening, the expected shriek following immediately after._

_"Who sent you?"_

_I continued shrieking, clutching the bruised leg that bled through my fingers. The pain was unlike anything I had ever felt in my life, so strong in fact that my tongue bled from where I bit myself. Through tear-filled eyes, I took a feverish look at my captor and shivered as I saw the utter apathy with which he regarded my broken form._

_I began shaking uncontrollably at the prospect of my impending torture and death, yet just as sudden as the pain came, the man departed in an instant, leaving me to grasp my shattered leg with clenched teeth._

_Eventually the pain and exhaustion grew so much that I passed out again._

* * *

_My captor returned the next day with the same procedure; who sent me and how I got the contract. This time around, both fear and exhaustion left me no will to speak. He simply continued to ask the same questions incessantly, never once changing face or tone. And so it was the day after, and the day after that._

_My leg was still swollen and broken, yet someone must have administered some medication on it to stop the bleeding while I was unconscious. The black bruise remained fresh on the limb though, and any sudden movement would make my consciousness waver._

_I didn't get to die just yet, as the food came but it wasn't nearly enough to stop the growing sense of hunger. The water too had a coppery tang to it, but it was all I had. Hours passed on end, lying on my back and staring at the bleak light coming from the window until sleep took me. The key was also gone, probably confiscated, as was anything I had in my pockets at the time. Eventually the cell became cold, and I lost sleep shivering in the thin set of clothes I was wearing before the first black-out. My jailors cared little for it, it seemed._

_I lost track of time after the first three weeks. Writing was my only option during the day, while the light still shone. I tried using my nails to score faint scratches on the walls as the days passed by, but sometimes I was too tired to sit until the count stopped all together. The visits of the old man seemed to become fewer and farther apart, until at one point I stopped expecting him completely._

_Nevertheless he would still come, sure as day, always asking different iterations of the same questions. Mumbles seemed to illicit sharp kicks, while any other question I would give was met with only muted silence until he came back asking the same things once more._

_I did not know anyone who could have sent me here considering the circumstances. Perhaps my other self was somehow responsible but deep down it didn't feel so. As for a contract, I really had no clue what he meant. All the contracts I ever signed in my life were to do with my education, and I doubted they were any reason to kidnap and torture someone for. _

_But it was all the same to them though. As far as my jailers were concerned, my fate was certain. _

_One day though, a new face showed up. This man, if indeed he was one, appeared like a light in the infinite black that was the oubliette at night. Faint light shone from the optic scopes he had for eyes, yet I could gleam no other details in the darkness save for the intricate metal plating he had for a face. _

_He grasped my hand and placed the usual cup in my grasp. My mind panicked at the sudden intrusion yet moving against his hand felt like budging against a brick wall. Slowly, the machine-man forced the liquid down my throat, the burning sensation causing me to gag then spasm into a twitching mess as liquid lines of fire seemed to flow through my veins. I fell unconscious soon thereafter._

_Sleep was no respite from the ordeal, and every night I would have fevered and twisted dreams from the past. I would wake up, sweaty and feverish to the old man asking the same questions, yet no answer would leave my lips._

_And so, the cycle repeated itself for what seemed like eternity._

* * *

_At some point, I began to seriously contemplate on every event leading up to the present. The crippling isolation soon began to sap my will to live and soon I devolved back to scratching my thoughts on the walls to stop myself from deteriorating completely._

_One day however, to my immense surprise, a sheaf of papers and a pencil appeared before me and these sheets soon became my entire existence. I began compiling every detail that I could think of – lecture notes, mythical stories, movie plots and eventually, a chronicle of my own childhood. _

_The nature of this world featured in my mind promptly, yet for the purposes of this letter I don't want to dismay you with thoughts and theories that probably sound like the ravings of a schizophrenic. After all, you were never a fan of anime._

_Full sheets piled up, and there was no end to my scribbles. The pile seemed to be untouched, but I was sure they read every word in my sleep. _

_Truth be told, I was past the point of caring long ago._

_I wrote of every day ever since mum and dad split up and left us at the boarding school. I wrote about every time you would argue with those entitled pricks who would show no ounce of dignity and respect to our more disenfranchised peers. But most of all, I wrote about the day of the accident and how my life seemed to spiral out of control after that. _

_I recalled it all, and yet I couldn't think how I could have acted differently. Perhaps if I was stronger and less selfish, I could have avoided the resulting isolation that came with the denial and hostility I regarded everyone with. I long since recognised my mistake in distancing myself from our family because of my own stubbornness, and I wish I could go back in time to seize all those missed opportunities._

_Guess it's too late now._

_I don't know. I don't know what I can do anymore._

_It seems like forever since either the old man or the machine came to question me, but I guess they probably realised I was not the man they were seeking and left me to die. The sheets of paper stopped coming, so I already began to write around the margins where I could._

_I just don't understand why this was happening to me. What I did to deserve this. Sometimes Gandalf's words come to mind, telling me that this is something that will come to pass. That I must decide what to do with the time that is given to me. But here in this lonely abyss with no tools at my disposal, I can do nothing but write and think, and eat and drink and shit. And time. Time lost all essence in this place._

_I'm already coming to the last piece of paper I have available, making the three-part letter I prepared for you complete. I'll try to make this meaningful. If this letter reaches you, I want you to call both mother and father and ask them for their forgiveness. For everything. I know this letter hardly seems credible, but if they ask about me, I know you'll find the right thing to say._

_It's the one other thing that can give me any peace of mind now._

_Vivian, I just want to say that words cannot describe how much gratitude I hold for what you've done for me after mum left. I pray to every god in existence that your health might return to you, and that you find the will to live your life to the fullest. The thought alone keeps me going._

_I always have and always will love you more than anything in the world. As my final wish, I urge you not to cry. Instead, promise me that you will try finding happiness. _

_Farewell, _

_Your dearest brother Taran_

* * *

Alarax was staring at the darkened window of the cell door with a stone-faced countenance, the sound of soft clicks behind him heralding the old strategos. A number of pages lay limply in his hand.

"You return." he stated, each word marked by a metallic twine.

He continued to stare at the darkness within, his hearing easily picking the slow rhythm of breathing despite his great age.

"The young lord asked what we'll do with him." The other man replied, throwing a glance in his direction "It seems…that I was indeed wrong."

If he was feeling any satisfaction hearing his affirmation, it did not show in his movements.

"No. Your suspicion was well-founded, though what we have here is undeniably a human. I'll say once again; my latest inspections yield no trace of aetheric tampering. His dreams are inconsequential to the house, or any other devil in the Underworld."

The report gave seemed to give the other man no comfort.

"Are you entirely sure he's not so adept that his control avoids your scanners? You've had your slip-ups before, Alarax. Who's to say the cad didn't somehow target my daughter while he was asleep?" he asked.

He stared at him unblinking, causing the strategos to sigh.

"An imitator, no matter how skilled, often tries too hard to maintain his façade. We've tried enough spontaneous approaches to ascertain that he is not one." He continued "And yet, the contract remains in effect with his lordship when the latter holds no recollection of ever signing such. That is cause for suspicion."

"Shall I kill him?" the man proposed.

"That is not an option. My efforts cannot trace neither root nor nature of this contract, only proof that a geis is in place between the master and this man. Killing him might activate a detrimental clause we are not aware of."

"Do you imply that-"

"-he should be sent back? No, else we risk triggering the probability that he has been evading us all along, and likely succeeding in his mission. But probability favours the fact that he is simply a mortal." he finished.

"So he really is a human then. Then we can keep him in this cell indefinitely."

Alarax shook his head "Imprisoning him indefinitely is counter-productive to finding any hidden motives. Once an animal is shackled, it becomes lax. Eventually it loses its will to live and waits to die. Torture will not serve us further. We might still have crucial information locked away from us."

The counter-argument made sense. Leaving him here until he died would only end in a fresh corpse and the master did indicate that he wished to spare the man for further investigation.

His colleague nodded slowly "I agree. It would be a waste given the Tear he had to squander bringing this human back from the brink, and the possible risk is too great to turn a blind eye to. Now that you mention it, it was a clever move on the young lord's part."

"Indeed." he nodded "He realised the potential risks given the contract in place."

"So, what do you propose?"

The strategos moved to join him at the door, regarding the shadowed interior with unblinking eyes.

"I will leave him with the caravan outside Geqorys. If he leaves the country, the auspex will be alerted and we will teleport to his location."

The short response raised a wizened eyebrow.

"You're leaving the human in a realm beyond his own? Didn't you just state the risk that comes with his death?"

"Affirmative." he replied, a low thrum emitting from inside the machine's throat. A sign of amusement or perhaps another internal process.

The man scoffed and moved to turn away.

"I read his notes Idarstas. The boy says things that defy logic – on the one hand, he seems to be knowledgeable of the Underworld, but on the other he states banalities. And yet there are no apparent ties to any faction. Too many theoreticals..." he trailed off.

"The delusions of a broken man crushed by two years of isolation."

"And yet, I'm curious to see what he will do." he replied, placing the files of paper on the adjacent table. "If he is at all honest to himself, then he will find a way to pay back his dues. He spoke fondly of one such man in his life who reminded me very much of the master."

Idarstas gave a bitter laugh.

"Placing all your trust on some deranged mortal? He'll sound our house's death knell."

"Perhaps he will. Perhaps he won't. But that is for the Seven and the One to decide."

* * *

**Thank you everyone for waiting so patiently. More chapters will come, even if Lucifer himself has to force my hand.**

**Lots of little hints and important details in this chapter - next chapter might confirm some theories you might have. I should also mention that the first two parts of the letter were heavily rewritten, so might warrant a look back.**

**Till then.**


End file.
